Louise Bogan: Musician
Now with great ease, and slow,
The thumb, the finger, the strong
Delicate hand plucks the long
String it was born to know.
January 17, 2020 · 1 Comment
Louise Bogan: Words for Departure
Nothing was remembered, nothing forgotten. When we awoke, wagons were passing on the warm summer pavements, The window-sills were wet from rain in the night, Birds scattered and settled over … Continue reading
August 10, 2018 · Leave a comment
